


This Elevator Only Goes Up To Ten

by Helena_Hathaway



Series: Stuck On An Elevator [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: 'I never' game, Anal Sex, Bucket List, Elevators, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frerard, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top!Frank, Trapped In Elevator, stuck in an elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1901118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helena_Hathaway/pseuds/Helena_Hathaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard gets stuck in the elevator with his upstairs neighbor whom he’s never had a proper conversation with. They then cross off a series of bucket list items in that tiny prison. Frerard porn with plot, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Elevator Only Goes Up To Ten

**Author's Note:**

> If you don’t follow me on Tumblr, than you may not be aware that I found a folder of unfinished one-shots on my computer. This is the first of said one-shots.

I’ve seen him quite a few times actually, but I don’t know his name. I just call him ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ which is a pretty self-explanatory term. I know quite a bit about him aside from that though.

I know he hasn’t gotten lucky since he moved into my building six months ago. Thin floors provide very little cover for his apparent lack of sexual partners. I can also hear his footsteps creaking every night, and he hasn’t ever had any visitors that I’m aware of. Or very few at that. I’m not saying it’s impossible for him to have sexual exploits between the hours of eight in the morning and four in the afternoon, but it’s highly doubtful because he goes and comes from work at about the same time I do. I see him on the elevator quite a bit actually, because we’re both on higher floors.

He’s something to look at though and I’m astonished that he doesn’t have a girlfriend or boyfriend or something. I mean he’s practically an Adonis with his stupid-ass grin and tattoos. I particularly love the bounce in his step like he’s actually happy to be living. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered by the relentless obscurity of one day to the next and that’s just truly remarkable, considering how cynical young workers are nowadays. It’s not like the nineties are a particularly bad time to be a twenty something in a dead end job, it’s just part of my generation to turn up our noses at everything.

It’s strange, but just seeing someone so chipper is really welcoming. He says hi to me a lot when I’m on the elevator, and I kind of half smile back at him, because I’m not used to being acknowledged. I’m just another faceless, nameless zombie to my boss, so I haven’t been actually respected since I moved to New York. Even though ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ has never said more to me than that systematic hello, I still know he’s sincere when he says it. There are some people you meet who you just know are genuine and caring and this guy ripples that vibe with every breath.

I get up for work as I do most mornings to the sound of my alarm. I hear ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ moving around five minutes later, and smile to myself thinking about him. My life doesn’t revolve around him or anything, I _swear_ , I just get really relaxed thinking about him. He seems like he’s got it all figured out and that’s comforting to me. The fact that anyone can have anything figured out is refreshing.

I only ever think about him when I can hear him walking around or when I see him, because he honestly doesn’t control my life. It’s true that I adjusted my own alarm fifteen minutes so I could get the opportunity to see him in the morning, but other than that he’s just my neighbor.

I hear his footsteps walking towards the door and hurry to walk quicker than him and get out my door. I’ve built a system where I run out of my apartment as soon as I hear him leaving, and that way the elevator always gets us both. It gets him and then me or vice versa, so I always get to see him. Okay maybe that’s a little obsessive, but he makes my day a smidge brighter and I’m not in the mindset to turn that down.

Standing in the hallways the numbers illuminate in a way that tells me where the elevator is in the building. I see the bright lights ding quietly as the elevator drops from the fifteenth floor and then down to the fourteenth and so on. There’s no thirteenth floor so it keeps going down to twelve and then further where it stops for a little while on ten, telling me that ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ just got on, and then it descends one level and the silver doors open for me.

‘Cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ looks up as the doors open and smiles at me like always.

“Morning!” he says, and his presence is way too alert to have just woken up, but I’m used to that by now.

I give him my usual half wave and stand to the side looking at my toes. He doesn’t say anything else as usual, but he keeps smiling all the way down to the lobby. When the elevator stops, I watch the doors open and wait for him to walk ahead of me. I don’t know why I always let him walk ahead of me I just do. We’ve had a steady routine for about three months now so he’s learned not to question it.

I still wish I knew his name though. I watch him walk down the road, the opposite of the direction I’m going, but I don’t look back. I think he has his own car or something which means he’s probably got a much higher paying job than I do. It’s the subway for me.

I run down the steps to the underground stop, and board my train which I only just make it to on time. A few stops and twenty minutes later the train halts in front of my building, so I get off and enter the tall intimidating building. I frown as I make my way through the hall, eager to conclude the final day of this mundane week.

The hours crawl by like a snail stuck in quicksand, but at long last I finally check my watch to see that it’s time to leave. I walk out quickly and stop at a small store to grab an incredibly healthy meal of potato chips and diet coke for dinner. I’m not one to care about the healthiness of my food most of the time, because fat doesn’t stick to me the way it used to. I was a chubby kid, but I grew out of it and now I don’t really have that issue anymore.

I get on the subway and make the trip back to my apartment, and then down the short sidewalk to my building.

I had thought I was going to be later than usual, but when I enter the lobby I see ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ waiting for the elevator. I walk up and stand beside him. He looks at me and smiles with that calming face that I love so much. His hair is disheveled today, black and messy, but cute. His work clothes are casual and a lot more lax than my own. He hardly ever wears anything but black jeans and a grey or black dress shirt. The sleeves are always unbuttoned and informal. This allows me to get a look at his ink, and I’ve honestly never been one for tattoos, but I like his. They suit him.

There’s no one else around to get on the elevator, but a few people get off so I allow them to walk around me, and then follow ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ to get on. He presses the buttons for nine and ten having familiarized himself with my floor, and I exhale quietly, glad that the day is over at long last.

The satchel around my shoulder feels weighted because of how exhausted I feel, and I can hardly wait to get home to watch reruns of bad horror films. Or maybe I’ll pop a VCR in and watch something better. Not likely, too much work to have to actually exert energy.

My brain is almost lost with the idea of sleeping in late and eating junk food, when I feel a jolt and the floor lurches uncomfortably.

I look up from my minor reverie and look at ‘cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine’ who is the only other person there.

He looks enquiring, but doesn’t say anything for a moment as he waits for something to happen. He then scrunches his eyebrows when nothing does.

“Do you think the elevator stopped?”

“Felt like it,” I answer.

“That’s not good,” He answers. His voice is deep and faultless. I think this is the most he’s ever talked to me, and I to him.

I don’t answer him, but sigh sadly. I want to be in my apartment not in an elevator.

He evaluates the buttons which are still lit up from when he hit them, and he presses them again, but nothing happens. He tries the lobby button, but the light doesn’t turn on so he frowns and looks at the control panel.

“I don’t know what to do to be honest,” he says and my heart sinks a little. It’s not like I anticipated for him to be an elevator expert, I just wish I had something encouraging to say that would make this elevator move.

“You could try opening the doors?” I suggest.

He looks at me and shrugs, then presses the button to open the doors. Oddly, that button works when the other ones don’t and the doors open to expose a dusty brick wall. It’s only illuminated by the light in the elevator itself so I know there’s definitely not a floor or ground behind the doors. There is a gap about a foot wide between the elevator and the wall which is disconcerting.

“Oh god I’m going to close it, that’s terrifying,” He says and he closes the door swiftly making the doors clamp back together stubbornly.

“Try the phone,” I say and point to the built in red telephone on the control panel. It has a warning about only being used in case of emergencies, but I guess this qualifies as one.

“Good idea,” the guy says and he picks up the receiver. I watch him and try not to stare as he talks to someone on the other end and explains our situation. He’s got a really pleasant voice and he doesn’t look even upset by our situation. He just looks neutral and lively. I can’t help but be glad that he’s not panicking. I don’t exactly want to be here either, but it’s a mercy to not get stuck in here with someone who’s overreacting. 

If this were a movie I’d probably have gotten stuck on here with a pregnant lady, some random balding man with claustrophobia, a kid with a baseball tossing habit, and a chick who I’d fall in love with by the time the credits play. Instead I have a good looking guy with a permanent smile.

He puts the phone back on the hook and frowns courteously at me.

“The super said he has to call, like, everyone in New York, but it’s a Friday night so it’s going to take a while. Says it won’t take long to fix, but it’ll take long for people to actually start working on it,” he summarizes.

“Oh okay,” I answer.

“So it looks like we might be here for a while then,” He says, “I’m Frank.”

Oh so he has a name. It’s not exactly the name I would’ve pegged him for. He seems so original to have such a common name, but I actually kind of like the way it fits him. He doesn’t necessarily look like a Frank, but he doesn’t not look like one either.

“I’m Gerard,” I say.

“Nice to finally meet you Gerard, though I wouldn’t have picked these circumstances.”

“No neither would I, though there are worse people to be stuck in an elevator with,” I answer, and then hope my face doesn’t turn pink.

He beams at me like I just told him the nicest thing ever, “Back at you.”

“Yeah well... it could’ve been the lady in 7b who smells like chlorine,” I say to try and ease the tension. He laughs and nods.

“Soooooo,” he says trying to think of something to say, “You live on the ninth floor?”

“Yep,” I answer just as awkwardly, “and you live on the tenth.”

He nods and looks at his feet, “I think I’m right above you actually.”

“Yeah,” I say. I have no idea what to say to him. What do you say when you get stuck in an elevator?

“Well if we’re going to be here awhile then we might as well get to know each other,” he says and he props himself against the wall casually, “Where are you from? I grew up in New Jersey.”

“Me too,” I answer.

“Cool. Oh god, I should warn you that I’m not good with small talk and shit,” he says and I agree with his words, “So, uh, what do you do? For work, I mean.”

“Boring stuff, which I barely understand so you probably wouldn’t either.”

“Yeah I know what you mean,” he nods, “so what do you _want_ to do?”

“Uh, something to do with art probably,” I admit.

“Oh you like art? Do you like draw or something?”

“Yeah a little bit, I mean I’m not very good but-”

“Everyone says that. There’s nothing wrong with complimenting yourself every once and awhile.”

I blush and run my hands through my hair, then realize I probably just severely messed it up so I sigh. Frizzy hair or not, he’s looking at me very casually.

“Self-promotion can sound arrogant but it can have a positive effect on your self-esteem. Take me for example, I’m fucking amazing at guitar,” Frank says and I smile. I know that too actually, because I can hear him practicing sometimes.

“Alright I’m okay at art. Better than most people?”

“Well that’s something at least. I’m sure you’re better than me,” he answers.

“And you’re better than me at guitar.”

“Fair enough,” he says and smiles, “So what do you draw?”

“Mostly cartoons and shit. A lot of blood I guess.”

“Cool, maybe you could show me sometime if we don’t die on this elevator,” he jokes.

I shrug and then remember the bag around my shoulder, “I actually have my sketchbook with me.”

“Really? Oh you have a bag,” He says when he sees me pull the strap over my head, “I don’t suppose you have a pamphlet on fixing elevators in there?”

“No, sorry,” I say.

“What do you have? Anything useful?”

I shrug, “just some pencils, notebooks, papers. Um, I do have a coke and some chips, but I don’t know how long we’ll be in here so-”

“Yeah I get it,” Frank says, and he smiles at me for a reason that I don’t understand. Maybe he just smiles at everything. That’s probably it, because I’ve never actually seen him when he wasn’t smiling. 

It’s true that I don’t know how long we’ll be on this thing, but if it ends up being a few hours I don’t want to exhaust our only food source right now.

“Are the lights going to go out in here?” I ask.

“He said they shouldn’t,” Frank explains, “Because the electricity is doing just fine it’s just not moving. It will get pretty hot in here though.”

“Oh okay,” I say.

“Well I’m going to sit down if we’re going to be here a while.”

“Good idea,” Frank says, and I sit down on one wall, as he takes a seat on the opposite, so that we’re looking at each other. 

He’s the kind of hot that shouldn’t be looked directly at, because it might make your eyes burn out of your skull, or maybe I’m exaggerating, but Frank is a stunner. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were a model, except that he lives in a building where a models salary wouldn’t necessarily be well spent. It’s not like this building is shitty, it’s just not _nice_.

“I hope you didn’t have any plans for tonight,” I say.

“No, I was going to watch shitty horror films and eat unhealthy amounts of popcorn,” Frank says, “Because I have wild and crazy Friday nights.”

“Me too, actually,” I confess.

“Well look at us, a couple of party animals.”

“I could party,” I say, “I just choose not to.”

Frank chuckles, “well that’s true of most things, Gerard. You _could_ wear a pair of lederhosen wherever you go, you just choose not to.”

“See that’s my secret though. I’m wearing lederhosen right now under my clothes,” I joke, and Frank giggles. It’s a light laugh, a pot giggle. I’d be very surprised if he was a stranger to a little bit of weed.

“That sounds uncomfortable,” Frank says, “if no one ever sees them, why do you bother?”

“It’s not about what people think, Frank, it’s about the way they make me feel,” I reply, wondering why we’re talking about nonexistent lederhosen.

“I’d imagine they make you feel like your balls are being squished, but I’m not here to judge,” Frank says.

“No, you’re here because our superintendent isn’t as on top of things as he should be.”

“Bitter are we?”

“You can’t honestly tell me that you want to be stuck in an elevator,” I state.

“Well not particularly, but at least the company is pretty great,” Frank responds, and I look down at my hands because I don’t want him to see me staring at him. He’s so pretty though. His face is perfectly curved, and his soft skin is just asking to be stroked or something. The way he puts every muscle in his face into his smile, and his whole body into his laugh.

“Are all your Friday’s spent like this then?”

“Well sometimes I eat gummy worms instead of popcorn or chips,” I say.

He rolls his eyes, “no, but um...”

“Oh you mean sad and lonely? Yeah.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No you were too polite to say it, but I read between the lines,” I say. 

“I bet you’re great at getting girls though, god knows you’re attractive enough,” Frank says, and my eyes bulge slightly just thinking about it.

“Definitely not,” I say and I try not to make my voice show the repulsion at the idea, but I guess I don’t hide it very well.

“Oh, um... oh,” Frank says and he looks down at his feet, but I detect something that looks an awful lot like blush. Oh my god did I make Frank blush? What did I say?

“So uh, what about you then?” I ask awkwardly.

“No I’m not dating anyone. I’m alone and depressing.”

“Yeah, I know,” I mutter.

“You what?”

“What?” I ask, realizing I said a bit too much.

“You know what?”

My face burns, but I answer honestly, “I know you’re single.”

“How do you know I’m not dating anyone?” Frank asks.

“It might have something to do with the fact that I can hear you walking around above me in your apartment. Never heard more than one set of footsteps and I’ve certainly never heard anything... else.”

Frank snorts and I see him chuckling which loosens me up a bit.

“Oh god, I never even considered that! I hear the people above me too.”

I still feel a little embarrassed but I look at him and he looks thoroughly amused by what I said.

“What else do you know about me that you’re not saying?” Frank asks.

“What? Nothing! I swear. I mean, I just see you go to work every morning that’s it,” I say, leaving out the part where I get up at the same time as him to do that.

“I’m just teasing, Gerard,” Frank says. 

To be honest I don’t know how long we stay quiet for. It’s already been a pretty long while in here, maybe upwards of an hour, because it’s taking forever to get this small talk rolling. We keep trying, but it doesn’t work, because I’m a bit too shy.

Frank finally has had enough and says, “We should get to know each other though, and awkward stunted conversations are going to get us nowhere.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Have you ever played ‘I never’?” Frank asks.

“I’ve never even heard of it, to be honest.”

“Okay well it’s usually a drinking game, but seeing as we don’t have any alcohol we can play with pencils,” Franks says and he grabs the pencils I’d set on the floor and spreads them on the ground in front of us.

“The rules are pretty simple,” he says, “one person goes at a time and you say something that you’ve never done. It can be anything at all like ‘never have I ever done whatever,’ and then anyone who _has_ done it takes a pencil. Person with the fewest pencils at the end of the game wins.”

“Sounds easy enough,” I say and he nods. Frank positions himself on his stomach with his head in his hands and his legs swaying upwards above his head, and this makes his hair fall into his eyes.

“I’ll go first, okay?” Frank asks, and he thinks for a moment, “Never have I ever successfully baked cookies.”

I frown and take a pencil. 

He narrows his eyes and says, “You can’t even bake?”

“I tried but I ended up making hockey pucks instead,” I reply and he laughs. 

Frank looks at me and says, “You go.”

“I, um... I can’t think of anything?” I admit.

“Just anything. Like, maybe a place you’ve never been.”

“Okay, um. I’ve never been in the Empire State building,” I say.

“Really? You live in New York, man,” Frank says and he takes a pencil from the pile.

I shrug, “I’ve just never gotten around to it, I guess.”

“You should. Unless, are you afraid of heights?”

“Not particularly,” I reply.

“Then you should go sometime. Well anyway, my turn,” Frank says, getting back on subject, “Never have I ever had a brother or sister.”

I take a pencil, and he raises an eyebrow. I guess this is a ‘get to know you’ game where you’re supposed to comment on things.

“My brother Mikey. Still lives in Jersey.”

It’s Frank’s turn to go and he says, “Never have I ever been attracted to a cute neighbor guy who I see on the elevator every morning.”

I blush profusely at his words and I’m surprised to see him grab a pencil.

“I thought the goal was to say things you _haven’t_ done?”

“Whoops,” He answers but I can tell he’s not at all upset by it. I don’t know what to say so I snatch a pencil from in between us and the corner of his mouth twitches upwards. 

What game is _he_ playing? Is he referring to me? He’s probably just teasing me or something, but I’ll play along. I’m intrigued.

I go back to a rather mundane statement about never cheating on a test. Frank frowns and takes a pencil, before explaining to me that he used to get sick a lot in school and sometimes didn’t catch up in time for tests. I guess it could be worse.

“Never have I ever dyed my hair an unnatural color,” Frank says, so maybe that other statement was just a fluke.

“Oh god, what color?” he asks when I grab a pencil.

“Red,” I say. “Like a fire hydrant.”

Frank’s smile broadens and he scans me like an X-ray then says, “I bet you looked really hot with red hair.”

I blush again, the color my hair used to be, and look down to maybe hide how nervous Frank is making me.

Several rounds and Frank goes back to playing with the rules. Maybe an hour passes, but time is becoming such an abstract subject in here with him. There’s only one pencil left in play though.

“It’s hot as fuck on this elevator,” I say, in passing.

“You can take your shirt off. I won’t mind,” Frank says, and I turn pink again. This guy is either a dangerous flirt or a douchebag and I really hope it’s not the latter.

“I’ve, uh, I’ve never...”

“It’s okay, if you can’t think of anything. I’ll go again,” Frank says, and he looks contemplative for a moment. He pulls himself up off of his stomach and goes to leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator, looking at me intently.

“Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone in an elevator,” Frank says and once again he takes a pencil. What is he doing? Is he coming onto me?

“Why,” I mumble but then I shake my head and I decide against saying anything.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just... do you make it a habit of wanting to kiss people in elevators?” I ask, sounding stupid.

“No. It was just this one time.”

“Oh, okay,” I say. I’m probably reading way too much into this and he thinks I’m a freak or something.

“Yeah I got stuck on an elevator, and there was this really cute guy there,” Frank says.

I turn even brighter and I must look like a complete idiot, “you’ve been stuck on an elevator before?”

“Nope, just this once,” He says nonchalantly.

Fuck. Or yay? No, fuck. I’m an awkward son of a bitch, this is going to make me even worse.

“Have you ever kissed anyone on an elevator, Gerard?” Frank asks.

“N-no.”

“It’s on my bucket list. You know, things to do before I die.”

“Yeah, I know what a bucket list is,” I say. What is he trying to do?

“I don’t want to die on an elevator though. That would suck because then I can’t cross anything off my list,” Frank says.

“I mean, we’re not going to die on this elevator. It’s just going to be a few hours. Like, it’s not going to be forever.”

“Can you be sure of that?”

I shrug, “Fairly sure.”

“But that’s not a guarantee,” Frank says.

“It’s almost a definite though,” I answer.

Frank sighs, and I look at him nervously, “You don’t take a hint! I thought it was fucking obvious, but can I kiss you, Gerard?”

Well that’s blunt.

“You’re a little far away, aren’t you?”

Frank smiles and it’s kind of the brightest thing I’ve ever seen, “Is that a yes?”

“Well you’re going to have to get a little closer,” I say, and Frank’s smile gets bigger. I mean come on though! Who could blame me? He _is_ really hot.

Frank crawls across the elevator though that’s only really a few feet, and he’s so pretty up close. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed sooner how his eyes are so gorgeous, and his fucking mouth. I would love to kiss that mouth, and here’s my chance.

Frank puts his hand on my cheek and looks at me for a second before he leans in and then I just lose my shit, because it’s unbelievable. I didn’t know it could be that good. His mouth is warm on mine, and the feel of his lip ring is different, but I like it, it’s sweet.

It’s nothing much at first, just a gentle kiss, but no one should really be surprised that I’d give it more than that. He’s so _hot_. Like fuck, I can’t take it.

I put my hands around the sides of his neck, and I pull him closer, because I really need less space to myself on this tiny little elevator, but I’m okay with it, and so is he. Frank’s not against it when I bite his lip slightly, he actually seems quite eager to let me do that again. I’m usually pretty shy, but you get stuck on an elevator with a guy for a couple of hours and things get a little less black and white.

His tongue, or my tongue, or one of our tongues decides to make it a little more serious, and I’ve had worse. Not had many kisses like this though, Frank’s got a nice pretty mouth. I want to see his mouth other places as well. He’s also got nice breath which is strange because we’ve been on an elevator for a few hours, but I like it. It’s not minty, more, I don’t know... fruity? That sounds rude, I meant fruity like _fruit_ , not fruity like homosexual. Frank might be a little fruity as well, but I’m cool with it. 

But fuck, I can’t remember why I was even upset about this whole elevator thing. I am never going to complain about an elevator ever again, this is magical. I need to get stuck on more elevators. Or maybe I just need to see Frank more. Yeah, I like the second one better. Hell at the very least, if anything is to come from this, now I know his name so I can stop calling him ‘Cute guy who lives in the apartment right above mine.’ Frank is a little more formal.

Frank is the first one to pull away, and he only does so because he’s running out of air. Me too, though I forgot about it for a little while there.

“Well there’s something to check off your bucket list. Can I help you with anything else?” I ask, and I feel a bit winded. That was wow. That’s the only word for it. Wow.

“That was one hell of a kiss,” Frank says, biting on the lip ring that _I_ had just been biting down on.

“I’d say so,” I reply.

“You know there was another thing on my bucket list I needed checking off,” Frank says.

“Oh? And how may I be of service?”

Frank snorts, “You’re a dork, Gerard. And a damn good kisser. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“You know, my pillow isn’t the most talkative thing in the world, but my brother calls me a dork all the time. Among other things,” I answer, a rush of adrenaline giving me confidence that I didn’t know I possessed.

Frank grins, and ducks his head like he’s embarrassed, and says, “That thing on my bucket list. I’ve never bought a drink for a formerly redheaded man.”

“So you’ve bought a lot of drinks for currently redheaded men?”

Frank smiles again, and looks at me, with those pretty brown, almost angelic eyes, “you’re awfully sarcastic, aren’t you?”

“Only around cute guys, which is strange because there’s only one cute guy in this elevator, and his name is Gerard.”

Frank fucking snorts and it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I almost feel bad about making fun of him just now.

Frank doesn’t bring it up he just presses me further against the wall of the elevator and starts kissing me again. Fuck, I could get used to this.

A minute later Frank asks, “so how about my bucket list? Will you help me with that drink thing?”

“Only if you help me with my list,” I say, kissing him again, because I cannot stand how soft his lips are. I’ve been ogling this boy for months and all it took was a faulty cable!

“What might that entail?” Frank asks breathily.

“I’ll tell you later,” I say. I don’t have enough strength to come up with an excuse to get him to take his pants off, and even if I could, I am not going to say that in an elevator.

“Promise,” he says, but it’s not really a question. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that the best way to pass the time in an elevator is by making out with a really hot dude. Maybe this _is_ a cliché family movie. Well probably not. There are too many dicks in the equation to be a family movie. A porno though. This could be a porno.

“Uh, so how long have we been here?” Frank asks after several minutes that are not unreasonably spent.

“Nearly three hours,” I say, looking down at my watch.

“God,” He groans.

“I’m not necessarily complaining,” I say, judging by the fact that he is fucking straddling me.

“Well no, _this_ I don’t mind,” He says grinning, “It’s the location I’m not too keen about.”

“Yeah I’ll agree with that,” I answer.

“Can I tell you something, Gerard?” Frank asks, and he, unfortunately decides to scramble over me and sit beside me. His body is still pressed against mine, but I really liked the other position.

“I guess,” I say.

“I’ve kind of had a crush on you for like six months. Ever since I first saw you in this elevator.”

“Really?” I ask, because that’s true of me as well.

“Yeah, kind of. I didn’t know how to talk to you though. This was a good excuse,” he says gesturing around us, “but it’s so hard to ask people if they’re into dudes, so I just didn’t.”

“Well you have an answer now,” I say.

Frank laughs, “Yep, that’s very true.”

“So was that whole game just a charade to get me to kiss you?”

“Well sort of. It went better than I’d expected.”

“You do realize that you’re sensationally good-looking, right? A _straight_ guy would have kissed you.”

Frank blushes, and I realize that he’s really not as extroverted as he was trying to be a little while ago. Not as shy as I am, but still. I think it’s cute.

“Well I mean, I’m much better acquainted with you then I was this morning,” Frank shrugs.

“Well if we’ve accomplished anything it’s that,” I say. “I am starting to get a little bored though.”

“There’s not really much to do. We can talk though,” Frank says, “I like the sound of your voice.”

I smile, and pull my knees into my chest.

“Okay, so tell me about your job,” I ask.

“Not much to tell for me either. I hate it, I’m underappreciated. I wanted to be a superhero when I grew up, but I just ended up in a cubicle that’s smaller than this elevator,” he confesses.

“Which superhero?”

“What? Oh all of them. I just liked superheroes. They’re cool, superheroes are cool, man.”

“I agree,” I nod, “I may or may not have a sizeable collection of comics.”

“In your apartment? You should show me those sometime,” Frank grins.

“There are a lot of things in my apartment I should show you.”

Frank chuckles and looks at me through the corners of his eyes, like he’s trying not to be noticed, but I see him anyway.

“What?”

“Hm, oh nothing. It just occurred to me that you won the game,” Frank tells me.

“What ga- oh, I nearly forgot. Well that’s nice then, what do I win?”

“What do you want?” Frank asks. A whole rush of thoughts flood my mind that are not things a normal person says in typical conversation. Things along the lines of ‘I want to see my dick in your mouth’ and so many other things similar to that.

“I guess I’m fine with just the sheer satisfaction,” I say, and Frank smiles, but leans closer to me treacherously. 

“No I can give you something, you did win after all,” Frank coos.

“Um, maybe later, we are after all, stuck here right now. Let me think about it.”

“Okay,” Frank says, leaning in even closer, until he’s right in my personal space. I feel his hot breath on the back of my neck before he’s biting under my ear. I whimper almost incoherently, because I need more than ever before to get off this damn thing. If I don’t get off here soon, I am going to lose every single one of my inhibitions, and jump the guy right here and now.

Frank’s not making it easy though, his hand rests on the side of my stomach. He pulls the sides of my shirt, rucking it up a little too far to be normally acceptable.

“N-not here,” I mutter, and Frank makes a disappointed sound, but I elbow him away softly, even though I really would rather not. We stay quiet for another long period of time while I listen to his breathing.

“This elevator is both a blessing and a curse,” Frank says.

“Why is that?”

“Well because I finally got you alone, but now I have to wait for this damn contraption to move,” he says, kicking at the wall.

“What is kicking it going to do?”

“Release some of my annoyance,” Frank says. “Not at you, just, ugh.”

“I understand,” I answer. “This is tedious, but I am very glad that you are not claustrophobic.”

“Not particularly, if it were smaller, we’d have a bigger problem,” Frank says, “and if there was a spider in here, I’d have jumped down the elevator shaft hours ago.”

Out of nowhere I feel the floor underneath me lurch and my first thought is ‘oh shit we’re going to fall and I’m going to die in a fucking box,’ but then I feel the slow indication of descent, and I’m beyond relieved.

“Finally,” Frank says. It starts moving just as I started to realize how fucking jaded I was. Also now I can get Frank into my apartment, hopefully. If his flirting is any indication than it really shouldn’t be too hard.

“Thank god,” I say.

“Wait, why are we going down?” Frank asks. I frown, and then see that he’s right. I stand up though, my legs feeling tired, but also yearning to walk around.

“I don’t know, probably to talk to the super? I’ve gotta piss like mad though,” I say.

We’re brought down to the lobby and I breathe a sigh of relief when the doors open onto a real floor. I step out liking the feeling of an actual floor underneath my feet.

A man in a work suit and the superintendent meet us as we step out of the cramped enclosure. As it turns out, they just want to talk to us about elevator safety, like it’s our fault or something that the elevator broke. After a lecture that I listen to none of, a quick stop in the bathroom, and several steps up several floors, we find ourselves on level nine, my floor. I didn’t really want to get back on that death trap after spending a grand total of four hours on it, so the stairs became imperative. It’s getting late enough that it wouldn’t even be strange to just go to sleep.

Frank stops on my landing, and I smile to myself because we can finally talk or _not talk_ somewhere that isn’t a five by eight box.

“So about that drink then,” Frank says.

“No, not yet. You already crossed off one thing on your list, I get a turn now.”

“What do you need taking care of that I can help you with, Gerard?” He asks, stringing my name out in the most velvety way possible. It makes my heart flutter a little bit.

“Well there’s a lot of things. I want to visit Paris. Wanna swim with the dolphins. Ride in a helicopter,” I say.

“Yeah, but how many of the items on your list involve taking your clothes off?” Frank says. I quite like how blunt he is.

“Well there’s the swimming with the dolphins thing. And item three on my list, I’ve always wanted to be seduced by a short Italian guy with tattoos.”

“Dolphins huh?” Frank says, pressing me up against the wall.

“Think you can help with that?”

“I’ll give it a shot,” Frank answers, and his mouth is on my neck a moment later, making goose bumps appear all over my skin. That’s one of the places I’d wanted Frank’s mouth, but there are a few more I can think of.

I push Frank away, and smile, “Easy there. My apartment is just a few feet away.”

“Oh, and what are you suggesting?” Frank asks.

“Just that we give my downstairs neighbors something to think about,” I answer, pulling him behind me and getting the door unlocked in an instant. 

Frank is so into it though I barely get the door closed behind me before he’s slamming me against my own wall. He starts fucking _grinding_ his hips against mine, and it’s perfect. I don’t have time to breathe before a choked, and drawn out moan escapes my lips. That friction is glorious, but it’s too muddled.

I can’t help myself from kissing Frank, hard and frenzied like the end of the world is coming or some shit, and he just kisses me back. I throw my stuff to the side, because I really don’t care right now, I just want to do so many things to Frank. 

It’s insane how hard I already am. We were stuck in a fucking elevator for like four hours and I was so tired, but here I am dry-humping my neighbor.

“Fuck,” Frank says, when I get my hands on the buckle of his belt. “If I’d known it would be this simple I’d have broken that elevator myself.”

“I’d have held the wrench,” I reply, getting the belt through the loops, and allowing it to fall to the floor.

Frank is so pliable though if I’m going to be honest. He doesn’t do any complaining when I push him backward towards the bedroom door, he’s actually quite keen to get there. Eventually he just grabs me, and pulls me to my own room. I don’t mind it, I like a guy who can take charge.

If Frank is out of practice he doesn’t look it, because he has me shoved down onto my bed, and then climbs on top of me in a matter of seconds, it’s quite impressive actually. Frank’s hips straddle mine and his jeans do very little to hide anything. He’s fucking hung. I can’t help feeling lucky that this guy’s my upstairs neighbor. Someone out there must be really looking out for me.

Frank doesn’t stop kissing me, not even slightly, and he tries to get my shirt over my head without even taking his lips off mine, which is impossible in case you were wondering and it makes me laugh mid-make out.

“Don’t laugh,” Frank says though he’s smiling, and blushing a bit despite himself.

“It was cute, I’m sorry,” I say, “get yours off so you don’t do it again.”

Frank shrugs, and pulls the shirt off from the bottom, and then it’s thrown to the side, because who need shirts?

He’s very pretty without a shirt, very colorful. I said before, I’ve never really been a tattoo kind of a guy, but I now realize that one of the appeals to them is that you can retrace them on people’s skin. I’m so tempted to run my tongue along every goddamn one, but that same tongue is too busy roaming around Frank’s mouth for me to do that right now.

He’s so energetic, this guy could get you going if you’d been stuck in the wilderness for six years. It’s contagious to, I feel wild with him right now.

Frank’s fingers are shaking against the skin near my navel, and I don’t know what I can possibly do to hurry this along. I’ve been in an elevator for so long, I just want him. Like five minutes ago.

If he’s not going to move first then I will. Usually I let other people do the work, I am a strictly unassuming human being, but I am horny and when I am horny, all the rules go out the window.

I get the zipper on Frank’s pants because I can’t just let him torture me, and my hand is in his boxers without much more thought than that. As I suspected, though there was never much doubt, the dude is, shall we say, ‘well-endowed.’ I get my hand around his cock, and start jacking him off in his pants.

Frank gasps, but it quickly turns into the dirtiest fucking moan I’ve ever heard, and I love it. His teeth bite my lip lightly, but enough for me to notice his reaction to it. I let my eyes flicker open to see the look on his face. If he was hot before than I don’t know what the word is for this.

While dumbstruck for a few moments, Frank eventually gets his composure back and his eyes open to look at me with a stare so close that all I see in the world are the dilated pupils in his eyes. He looks hungry, and I don’t have a second to do anything before his hand is in my pants, and matching my own in his.

I restrain myself only very slightly, because I still shiver at the feeling. I do pause for a moment to just receive. Frank’s free hand gets the clasp of my jeans undone and he tries to get them pulled down, but he’s having a problem with the fact that he is lacking one hand, but I’m not in the mood to complain.

I hate to do it, but I do take my hand off his dick, and I just get his pants off all together. Frank doesn’t resist, and in fact lifts his hips up for me to get them, before he kicks them off himself.

There are so many different places I want to touch him, and so little time. Cupping his ass in one hand, I let myself stop kissing him for a moment which is far too long. I spit onto my hand and then return to work on Frank who meets my return with another, more guttural moan than the last few.

I can’t even take how good it all feels, and he takes his hand off my cock. It makes me feel so abandoned, but he coaxes my pants and boxers both down my thighs, which I’m more than okay with.

I tend to look even paler in the dark then under light and it’s not untrue now. Frank doesn’t seem to care though, because he starts kissing my neck again.

“Fuck, Frank. Just fucking fuck me already!”

“Whatever you say,” Frank says with a laugh.

I lift my legs and pull them apart underneath Frank to get them wrapped around his hips.

“Wait-”

“We’ve been stuck in a fucking box for hours, I can’t wait, dumbass,” I say.

“You are an impatient bastard,” Frank says, “I was just going to say we need lube you fucking idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot,” I say, although I kind of am, “just, um... bedside table. Top drawer.”

Frank nods and strains himself to get the lube without disrupting our position. I whimper when his skin rubs against my cock, because I want him to touch me again. Touch me all over.

He gets the drawer open and sets the bottle on the bed near my head, but he doesn’t return immediately as he grabs something else. He holds up the, admittedly, overlarge vibrator and holds it out to display it to me with a raise of the eyebrow.

“Can I fuck you with this some time?” Frank asks.

“If you like, but right now I want your cock,” I say, and Frank nods, putting it back and getting the drawer shut.

I wait patiently, or as patiently as I can, for him to coat three fingers and he puts one to my hole before I hurriedly say, “no time for that. All three.”

Frank shrugs but obliges and goes for all three at once, which is a little bit too much for a few seconds, but it’s not that bad after I adjust. Then it’s just a long string of ‘holy shit, my hot upstairs neighbor has got his fingers up my ass,’ over and over in my head.

“Fuck, please. I want you _now_ ,” I say, not even trying to hide the urgency in my voice.

Frank giggles, in a doesn’t-really-fit-these-circumstances kind of way.

After another dosage of lube generously applied to Frank’s erection, my brain only barely stops from saying ‘finally!’

Frank nudges his tip to my entrance, and I bite my lip anticipating the feel of him inside me. Six months of fawning over this guy and I’m finally here. He pushes in ever so slightly and carefully, but I let out a sigh of relief.

“Fuck,” Frank gasps, and I laugh breathily though that’s probably just a reaction to his presence inside of me. I wouldn’t say it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex, surely not nearly as long as Frank’s gone without it, but still it does feel like it’s been forever. It’s strange, Frank seems to be more outgoing and courageous than me, but I bet I’ve been laid at least two or three times since he moved in upstairs, compared to his staggering zero. He’s a good looking dude, he could get around if he wanted, but I bet he’s just not the one-night stand type. I’m perfectly fine with that as well.

Frank bottoms out after a few seconds, and I know we’ve only just started, but already I need more.

“Fucking give it to me,” I say, looking up at him, “I can take it.”

Frank’s face is only inches above mine and I’m ready for him to plow the fuck into me, but he pauses to kiss me long and hard before he so much as moves an inch.

When he does though, he doesn’t seem too eager to make it hard or fast.

“Ugh, fucking pansy,” I frown, “no mercy, Frank.”

He creases his eyebrows, “you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I say, grabbing his shoulder and wrenching him down to meet my lips. Frank seems to get the hint, and he thrusts a little bit harder this time. A few paced thrusts and he starts to understand it, when I allow a few moans to make it past my lips.

“Better,” I say, kissing his jaw when I lose my aim at his lips.

Frank’s pretty gentle though, and I’m not sure where the animal went that I was making out with a few minutes ago, but it’s just not enough yet. It’s still pretty fantastic, but it’s not _enough_.

Now granted, Frank is fucking huge so it’s already better than a lot of sex I’ve had, but we both know he can do better.

“Harder,” I command, after Frank grunts raggedly.

One good thrust does it for me and I practically scream when he hits my prostate. The next time is a little off, but the one after that he gets it again, and I call out even louder. 

Harder and harder with each hit, and I see Frank gaining his confidence back when he’s met with approval.

“You sound goddamn amazing,” Frank husks, so I get louder, and Frank does too.

A rotation of the orders ‘faster’ and ‘harder’ escape my mouth as my fingernails dig into his back and shoulders. Whatever kisses he manages to capture keep getting interrupted when I moan into his mouth persistently.

I don’t know how long I can last like this, he feels absolutely amazing inside of me. The way he’s using me so utterly possessively is just making me get so much closer.

Frank’s chest is against my own and I feel the small nubs of nipples rub against my chest, and it forces me to run my hands all over his beautifully marked body. The curve of his ass, and the small of his back, making goose bumps erupt all over him.

Frank envelopes my ear lobe with his mouth before taking his mouth off altogether, and all of a sudden he’s looking down at me. His chest and body are far from mine, but he just keeps pounding into me with more force. I get, if it’s even possible, louder looking at him as he watches me. From this angle I can see his cock disappearing into my ass and it’s hard to believe just how big Frank is, but I love it.

“Touch yourself,” Frank demands, and who am I to disobey? I let my hand stroke up and down my cock hard and fast to the rhythm of Frank slamming inside of me. There’s a slap of skin on skin, but it’s barely audible over the noises I’m making.

He must be getting close if he wants me to touch myself, but I don’t question it I just let my hand wank me off.

“I’m gonna cum, Frank,” I say breathlessly, but before I even can, Frank is releasing inside of me making me clench around him. He collapses back on top of me with a long string of cuss words intermixed with my name. I love hearing people say my name when they’re cumming, and Frank is no different.

The sound of Frank moaning right next to my ear is enough to give me three final pumps before I spill between our two sweaty bodies.

I don’t know if I’m flying, or falling, or just staying still, but my orgasm is forceful, and holds onto me for several seconds before I remember the world around me. I hear Frank panting against my skin, and the suction on my neck leads me to believe that he’s imprinting a couple hickeys there.

“God, you’re hot,” Frank whispers before I grab his head and kiss him hungrily. This man deserves to be thanked for giving me a climax that strong. One of the best I’ve had in years.

I’m vaguely aware of Frank still inside me, but I’m not too keen on doing anything about it, because I like how close we are to each other right now.

I’m a little too high from what just happened to do anything but mumble, so I let my hand rub the skin on the small of his back gingerly.

“One less item on your bucket list,” Frank says, and I laugh giddily.

“You sir, are invited back here anytime you want,” I say.

“Mmm, good,” Frank says, sliding slightly off of me and to my side, but he’s still got a leg wrapped around me so he’s like a human blanket. I feel a little empty without him inside me though, but I just turn my head to look at him, and how beautiful he looks in the glow of the light.

“You owe me a drink, Frank,” I say.

“It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it, as one-shots are seriously harder than writing a bunch of chapters.


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